


They Forgot to Give Her a Funeral

by kmm530



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aunt-Niece Relationship, Blaming, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Death, Female Friendship, Found Family, Friendship, Grief, Leadership, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Mentorship, Natasha Deserved a Funeral and I will Die on this Hill, Natasha's Red Jacket, Post-Endgame, Red in her ledger, Remembrance, Sadness, Sister-Sister Relationship, peanut butter sandwiches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kmm530/pseuds/kmm530
Summary: Why didn't Natasha Romanoff, the Soul of the Avengers and half the reason they won, get a funeral?
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov, Carol Danvers & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Natasha Romanov, Laura Barton & Natasha Romanov, Lila Barton & Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Nebula & Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts & Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson & Natasha Romanov, Scott Lang & Natasha Romanov, Stephen Strange & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov (implied), Thor Odinson & Natasha Romanov, Wanda Maximoff & Natasha Romanov, past Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 5
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

After Natasha died, nothing was ever the same.

Of course, no one who had been Dusted knew that she was dead until after the war was over. Until after Tony was also dead. And while that seemed to take precedence in everyone’s minds, inside their hearts and homes, they grieved for her.

Wanda Maximoff found out after the battle. She went over to hug Clint, who looked wearier than he should have after just the one fight. As she asked about Vision, Clint’s face dropped, and as she asked after Natasha, whom she hadn’t seen during the battle, Clint’s half-broken demeanor shattered and he cried for hours.

She began to wear Natasha’s red jacket more. Soon it was every day until the jacket seemed to meld onto her skin and it was impossible to see her without it on. Wanda thought it to be a lifeline, a way to keep Natasha with her for both her own sake and for Clint’s. A way to remember. Wanda grieved in the privacy of her bedroom.

She dreamed of the times she spent with Natasha while they were on the run. She wished to have those moments back, to have just one more conversation with the woman who had taught her so much, who had taught her not to be afraid in the face of imminent chaos. She was glad Natasha had not insisted on taking her jacket back.

And while Wanda was remembering, she forgot to give her a funeral.

Steve hadn’t known anyone when he had first woken up. Fury was the first to help him, setting him up an apartment, attempting to help him adjust to the modern twenty-first century, but Natasha was the first person to treat Steve like a regular person. She had been his first friend here, and slowly but surely he found himself falling.

Steve thought of her as the perfect blend of Peggy and Bucky, though both were irreplaceable in his heart. He trusted her, and she trusted him, and he hadn’t been able to save her. “Get a life,” He’d told her; “You first,” She’d responded, and she had made sure of that.

And while Steve mourned his lost love, he forgot to give her a funeral.

Bruce Banner was a man lost in time, and he knew that. Not a man out of time like Steve, but lost in time. He knew the risks they all took being superheroes. No matter how carefully they planned, how many precautions they took, there was always a margin for error, and that was acceptable. They all knew the risks of being the Avengers. He just never thought that that margin would take Natasha.

She was a light on his dark path; she was there when he needed her the most and he had not returned the favour. He’d disappeared without a trace for two years, and when he returned there was no downtime until half the population dusted. Then they were searching the planet for survivors and hoping beyond everything that the universe would bring Tony back to them.

There was never a right time to talk to her, and when they’d killed Thanos to complete their mission, he decided to take the cowardly way out. He disappeared again. Of course, he knew she knew where he was. She had surveillance on every one of her teammates, every second of every day for five years. Even while he studied and epiphanied and transformed; merging his consciousness and Hulk’s brawn into a single being.

He told everyone that it was something to do, that it was another experiment, but there was a deeper reason - if he looked less like himself, he’d forget the man he was all those years ago; the man who’d fallen in love with her. It would hurt less if he didn’t look like either himself or the Hulk. He could forget his betrayal to Natasha. But he never gave up hope that there would be a right time to talk to her. And then suddenly, that hope was extinguished. Because she was gone.

Bruce Banner was a man lost in time because he wanted to go back to when things were simple. When he’d created a murder bot with Tony, and when he could have conversations with Natasha. The margin of error had torn his life apart, and now his reason for living, his hope, was gone.

And while he was lost, he forgot to give her a funeral.

Thor Odinson was no stranger to Death. But he also wasn’t a friend to such a harsh creature. After Natasha died, Thor felt guilt ripping through his gut. And sorrow, and pain, and the need for revenge, but he knew that that was not what she would’ve wanted, and so he honoured her memory by keeping it untainted.

He remembered only the good and the learned. He remembered the way she smiled, and the way she laughed, and the way he would beam proudly at her as she washed the blood off her hands, small bit by small bit. “You are repaying your debt.” He would think.

He knew about the guilt and the blood that came with warrior’s hands, and he knew that she would never rest until it was repaid in full, and to the fullest she did. She gave her life to the noblest of causes, for the best of the world and its inhabitants, and he knew that her debt was repaid.

And while he gave her permission to rest, he forgot to give her a funeral.

Scott Lang knew exactly three things about Natasha Romanoff: she was a powerful leader who took no shit, she knew fighting techniques that were thousands of years old, and she made the best peanut butter sandwiches in the world.

So, when she didn’t return from the mission with Clint, he didn’t believe it. He stood in what he called hope, what the others called denial. He prayed to some hopefully existent god that she would come back. Time went on and there was nothing. But still, he kept hoping; after all, she was a hero. And heroes couldn’t just... die.

Scott wasn’t stupid, he was dangerously optimistic. But when Tony Stark died and Scott realized that not heroes, but good people, could fall, sacrifice their lives for their cause, he finally accepted that Natasha was gone. He never really cried about it. He hadn’t known her personally enough for that. But he thought about her constantly.

How she was kind. How she was strong. How she had put her family first. How she’d thrown aside any regard for her own well being in order to ensure that they had a future. Scott Lang knew that Natasha Romanoff was a hero, a great person. But more than that, Scott Lang knew that she was a good person.

And in his revelation, he forgot to give her a funeral.

Sam Wilson had come to see many things over the years. War, famine, disease, heartbreak. He’d come to see Captain America as his best friend, with two ex-assassins coming in as close seconds. He was open with Steve, snarky with Bucky, and silent with Natasha. It wasn’t that they didn’t talk, or joke, or even fight occasionally, it was that they talked more in-depth when they were silent.

After the battle had ended, Sam searched for Natasha. She had to be somewhere; stuck under a pile of rubble or perhaps in a med bay. It wasn’t until he confronted Steve about it that he was told the truth. Natasha had given her life for his. For all of theirs. She was gone.

So later, when the air was chilled and all life on the earth outside had ceased, he stilled and listened. He could almost hear her talking to him as he breathed, could almost hear her laughing with him as he smiled, could almost see her face when he closed his watering eyes.

And as Sam Wilson listened, he forgot to give her a funeral.

Lila Barton didn’t know anything was wrong, at first. One moment, she was watching her father pull arrows from the target and the next, he was gone. He couldn’t disappear in just a blink, could he? They didn’t see him for several days, but about a week later he showed up with a new haircut and a sorrowful soul.

It had been five years. Lila marveled at the dramatic changes of her father and didn’t question him when he told her to put on a black outfit. They were going to a funeral. Tony Stark was dead. That’s all she figured out from the funeral, and from what she remembered of him, he had been a great man.

They were all there recognizing him-all of the Greats. The Captain America her school and classmates idolized, the Winter Soldier her daddy had been punished for protecting, the literal god Thor, the genius Bruce Banner whose loss the world had cried over for years, the Scarlet Witch whose brother had died so that her daddy might come home to them, even Mr. Fury. But there was no Auntie Nat. During the funeral, Lila’s eyes shifted side to side, hoping to catch a glance of her Auntie Nat’s bold red hair. She dared to ask her father afterward where Natasha was.

Lila Barton spent days in her room, crying, screaming, cursing, mourning. She ripped down pictures she had drawn for Natasha and crumpled them, and sobbed as she tried desperately to flatten them to return their former glory. She refused to take off the friendship necklace Natasha had had the other half to. It was her last connection to her aunt.

She shut out her mother’s attempts to console her, her brothers’ attempts to cheer her up, her father’s shared grief. She became angry, bitter. She shut out the world in order to grieve for the woman who knew her the best.

And in her despair, she didn’t once think about giving her a funeral.

Laura Barton was drawn to danger, the way Sherlock Holmes was drawn to homicides - there was really no doubt about it. But there was no way she’d ever be involved in anything more secretive than stealing a pack of gum every once in a while.

So, if someone had told teenaged Laura that she would end up marrying a superhero and being involved with some of the most famous and powerful people in the world, she would’ve laughed. If someone had told Laura Barton that her best friends would be her husband and his lost stray of a woman: the world’s deadliest and most wanted assassin, she would’ve called the police. But they would both end up being true, and Laura couldn’t imagine having it any other way.

She loved Natasha like her sister. They were the sisters who gave each other good advice and unlimited, unconditional love. She loved Natasha like her friend. They were the friends that didn’t need to talk to fill the silence, but when they started, they wouldn’t stop for hours. She loved Natasha like her child. The redhead had been deprived of so much and Laura took it upon herself to give Natasha experiences, and help her to learn what it was to be human again. So when Laura was told what had happened, she wept.

And as Laura grieved for the woman who had been her sister, her best friend, and her first daughter, she forgot to give her a funeral.

Stephen Strange had met Tony Stark. He had spent time with Tony Stark. He had grown to respect Tony Stark. He had grieved publicly for Tony Stark. But Stephen Strange had never met Natasha Romanoff. He had never spent time with Natasha Romanoff, but he respected her and her role in defeating Thanos, which, he came to realize, was probably why he was grieving for her.

Grief was an idiotic emotion, really, especially for someone he had never met, but he didn’t question why he was feeling it. He grieved for her privately, slowly, but with a burning intensity. He grieved for her when no one was watching because he didn’t feel that he had the right to. After all, he hadn’t even known her.

And because he didn’t know her, he didn’t think about giving her a funeral.

After Natasha died, nothing was ever the same.

_No one was ever the same._


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else.

Clint Barton couldn't get the picture out of his mind. The picture of Natasha falling to her death so that he could be with his family again. The picture haunted him, invaded his mind at night and he woke up barely containing screams that would wake up his children. Her last words echoed through his mind and he couldn't bring himself to utter them. He spent his days being strong for his children and nights weeping with his wife at his side. 

His best friend, his partner. His soulmate. The person who knew him better than he knew himself, the person who knew every detail of his life, the only person he could trust on the job and one of two he could trust off. She was gone, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. Laura murmured kind nothings that didn't help either of them. He imagined being in front of Fury with her at his side, blissfully unaware of how much happiness and sorrow she would bring him. His mind would shift to their missions, but instead of completing them, he would come back with her broken body in his arms, and he would awaken, cries stuck in his throat. He would not trade her for the world, though. 

Lost in his nightmares, Clint forgot to give Natasha a funeral.

Carol Danvers was a simple woman. She admired those who were capable of leading, who were unafraid to confront hard times with hard truths, and those who could fight. So when she met Natasha, she knew that to follow her meant that eventually, they would win. 

She was off-world when it happened. Unreachable in the depths of the cosmos. She was late to the battle, and after they'd won, after Stark had died, after they'd paid their respects, she looked around to see who was left, who had come back. She saw faces both familiar and not, but none of them were the faces she wanted to celebrate with. There were few women among them, and she wanted the one she trusted.

Carol spent her days after throwing herself into the work that had to be done. She left no time to think; the world needed her. Her world needed her, and there was no one else she trusted to put things back in order. The spider kid volunteered, but he was so young and reminded her too much of Natasha. 

There was no work to do the day of Tony's funeral except dress nicely and grieve. Carol was in a black suit and stood on the steps to the house, giving those who knew him better the space to be closer to his wife and child. She thought about everything in those moments. The Snap, the grief. The story Clint had given her. She stood stoically, giving her respect to both the Heart and the Soul of the Avengers. Grief pooled in her body as she allowed herself the chance to finally think.

Because she'd grieved for both at the same time, she didn't think about giving Natasha a funeral.

James Rhodes had never met another woman quite like Natasha. She was cold and beautiful, and he had half a mind to compare her to an Ice Queen until he spent time with her and learned who the real Natasha was. She was cold because of her fear of attachments and beautiful because that was how she tricked men into giving her the information she desired from them. He loved her as a friend, and despite her dark past, he found himself willing to defy the government for her. 

When she did not return, Rhodey felt anguish clutch his soul and dedicated the rest of his fight, their fight, to her. They could not win without her sacrifice and Rhodey remembered that every day, during every battle, when the Dusted came back. 

He loved her. Plain and simple. And though Tony would always be his best friend, Natasha was the closest second he'd ever had. 

And while he was remembering his friend, he forgot to give her a funeral.

Bucky Barnes understood what it was like to be kept, toyed with, and how much strength it took to break out of who they trained you to be in order to live your own life. He admired Natasha for her unwavering power in claiming herself.

He sought out Steve after the battle and asked where he could find her. Steve looked older than he ever had before and with sad eyes broke the news. Bucky tried not to go numb. He really did, but even though he'd only known Natasha for months, he couldn't help but feel as though a piece of himself was missing. She had given him a second chance and he owed her his life. 

Anger coursed through his being as he contemplated the unfairness of life. She was good. She deserved better, but she had done her best. She'd given her life in hopes that everyone else could keep theirs, and Bucky hoped that one day he could redeem himself as she had. 

And as he worked to follow her example, he forgot to give her a funeral.

Pepper Potts found out about Natasha long after the woman had died, but could not find the energy to grieve for her. Her energy went into Tony's death, into Morgan, and she simply did not have enough to go around.

She had grown to love Natasha as more than a co-worker. She was an ally, a confidant, a woman with too many faces to count, and Pepper loved them all. She loved how a sister loves a sister, and learned that Natasha was driven only by guilt. So Pepper loved her without strings attached, brought her coffee without expecting anything in return, and became a model of proper love.

Pepper could not bring herself to think about Natasha for years to come for fear of finally breaking in half, even though grief slowly rooted itself in her heart. 

And because she could not think about Natasha, she could not think about giving her a funeral. 

Morgan Stark had no idea who Natasha was. She was a five-year-old girl struck with emotions she did not know how to comprehend and did not focus on anything but the present, and her present was that her father was not coming home. She had no mind for a woman she'd met once, even if her mother cried for her. The woman had just shown up one day with two men, and the next day her father was gone. 

If Morgan was honest, as she grew, she blamed the red-haired woman for her father's death. Though the people around her told her that wasn't fair, that the woman was a hero and her father had made his own decision, she could not help but wonder what would have happened if the woman had not shown up on her doorstep that fateful day. 

And in her hatred, Morgan did not give Natasha a funeral. 

Nebula had been a shell of a woman, having lost her body, her sister, and her friends. Tony Stark had brought light back to her world, but Natasha had been a model of strength in the times when they were desperate. Nebula had willingly followed her leadership because no one else stepped up, and she respected those who took charge. 

Nebula had spent years of her life pushing grief aside - grief for the parents she'd lost, grief for the parts she'd had ripped away from her body, grief for the relationship she craved and never had with her sister. But the moment she had sent Clint and Natasha to the cliff, she began to grieve. She knew that both would not return. Secretly she hoped that Clint would be the one to sacrifice himself, but when he returned and she did not, Nebula cursed herself for hoping. It never ended in her favour. 

In her anguish and guilt for sending the woman to her death, Nebula forgot to give Natasha a funeral.

Tony Stark would've made the arrangements. He would've paid for the service, the burial of the empty coffin. He would've made a speech with her favourite kind of drink in hand, and made a somber speech followed by a party in her memory. 

But he had died, and so the Heart and Soul faded.

_No one was ever the same, and they forgot to give her a funeral._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it for this story.  
> You get a virtual cookie if you can guess my favourite MCU character.  
> Who's your favourite MCU character?  
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> Whoooooa y'all, that was intense. Leave me your thoughts! Part two will be up when I can get to it  
> xx


End file.
